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“So hideous,” Mandy says, and Janet laughs.
“She thinks she looks good,” Janet says.
“She doesn’t.” Mandy’s voice is harsh, shrill, and suddenly, I wonder why I’m here. Why did I even come? Do I really have a family obligation to be here? Do I really have an obligation to be around people who hate my guts?
“I feel bad for you,” Adele says. “She’s your sister, you know. Her looks reflect on you.”
I’m almost 30 years old and I’m hiding in the bathroom because my family hates me. I’m at an event that I chose to come to, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.
There is something seriously wrong here, and the realization is a little bit freeing, to be honest.
Suddenly, I understand I shouldn’t have come.
Suddenly, I realize no one would have missed me.
Suddenly, I realize it’s time to cut ties with my family and move on.
It’s time to be strong.
It’s time to be brave.
It’s time to be a fucking adult.
I push the stall door open and walk over to the group of women gathered at the sink. They looked surprised to see me. Mandy has the decency to blush briefly, but Adele and Janet just stare at me.
“Melody,” Mandy says. “We, uh, didn’t know you were in here.”
“Obviously,” I say, then I give her a chance to say something for herself, but she doesn’t. Mandy doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t deny what she said, she doesn’t apologize, and she doesn’t make up anything to ease the tension in the room.
She just stares at me, and I realize I don’t know her at all.
I never did.
“You know what, Mandy? Adele was right.”
“Um, she was?” Mandy looks confused.
“I feel bad for you, too,” I say, and Adele suddenly grins, but the smirk doesn’t last for long because I keep talking. “Yeah, I feel bad that you’re such a shallow person you have to put others down to feel good about yourself. What is this? Third grade?”
“Hey,” Janet inserts herself into the conversation. “That’s not nice.”
“Oh, you want to talk about ‘nice’? Is that what you want to do? Sure. We can do that. Let’s talk about how nice it is that your husband cheats on you with Adele when you’re not around. Let’s talk about how he was arrested for drunk driving three weeks ago. Oh, or we could talk about the fact that you’re still unemployed because no one wants to hire an employee who steals.”
“Melody!” Mandy tries to shush me. She looks around wildly, like someone is going to hear. “That’s not polite.”
“No, it’s not polite, Mandy. It’s not polite that Adele is a cheater. It’s not polite that she thinks it’s okay to mess around with her cousin’s husband. It’s not polite that you’ve known about it all year and never said anything. It’s not polite that you’ve slept with him, too.”
“WHAT?” Janet shrieks and starts hitting Mandy before I’ve even left the bathroom. I should feel bad about everything I just said, but I don’t. For the first time I can remember, I stood up for myself, and it feels really good. It feels great.
I head out of the bathroom and walk straight to my car. I don’t bother looking over at the park pavilion or peeking at who is gathered there. I don’t want to say goodbye to my parents or aunts or uncles. I don’t plan on speaking to them again.
After today, they can consider the relationships severed. I don’t know why I didn’t do this before. I don’t know why I wasn’t brave before. I don’t know why I didn’t stand up for myself before.
The truth is that not talking with them isn’t going to change my life in any way. I’ll still go to work. I’ll still pay my bills. I’ll still study in my free time and I’ll still hang out with my friends. The difference is that I won’t feel guilty when my mother sees me eat food. I won’t feel bad about myself when my father wants to know why I don’t have a husband. I won’t be comparing myself to my little sister.
I’ll just be able to be me.
I get to my car and unlock the door, but before I can sit down, I feel someone grasp my arm.
